Shadowlands
by SpobyFicStalker
Summary: "She entered the ruin of a house a little wearily, her eyes instinctively looking around for Toby amidst a landscape of black residue." Spencer and Toby. Continuation of 5x06. Oneshot.


A/N: Is it too late to say Happy New Year? Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed Genesis. I'm so grateful every one of you, but I would like to take this opportunity to give a shoutout to my anonymous reviewers. The fact that you guys don't have an account on here but still keep coming back to read (and re-read) my stories is so amazing to me. Not to mention the words of kindness you leave me purely out of the goodness of your hearts. Thank you. I feel very lucky. :)

So I recently re-watched 5x06 and I'd forgotten how much it bothered me that Toby wasn't in it. I mean seriously? He's mentioned 31,549 times but he can't make a single appearance to give some kind of closure to his (and Spencer's) storylines? So I did what I usually do when an episode leaves me dissatisfied: I set out to write what I would imagine happening afterwards. Yeah, so this takes place right after the episode ends for Spencer (for those of you who don't remember: she's at the Brew with her mom, who tells her that her dad will be moving out permanently. She tears up and begs her to give him another chance and it's heartbreaking as usual).

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><p><strong>Shadowlands <strong>

It was only when she spotted her boyfriend's stepmother standing in what was left of the driveway that she forced herself to take a deep breath. Her mind had been reeling since leaving the Brew. It had taken every ounce of self-control she possessed not to flee out of there in tears, but something about her mother's persona had always straightjacketed her into keeping her emotions in check.

She hadn't cried yet – not really, not anything more than blinking away a few unwanted tears before they had the chance to distance themselves from her eyeballs. There was a time when crying alone was what she preferred. It was safe, if terribly lonely. But these days when she would feel herself losing her composure she would seek out the soft voice and warm body of the person who made her feel alive.

She hadn't counted on his stepmother being there though, even if he had mentioned earlier that she would be accompanying him to the remains of their home. Spencer swallowed hard before clearing her throat and spoke like she knew so well how in a soft but steady tone of voice.

"Hi, Mrs. Cavanaugh. Is Toby still here?"

The woman looked her up and down, and Spencer had to firmly tell herself not to flinch. She didn't quite know when it had happened but somewhere along the line her parents had come to accept and even like Toby, which something she had yet to see reciprocated by his family. It wasn't that she saw them all that often, but Spencer strongly suspected they still viewed her as a toxic presence in their son's life. A time bomb that would turn him into debris when – not if – she finally exploded.

On her worst days, she would look at herself in the mirror and understand their reasoning perfectly.

"He's inside," the stepmother replied, almost politely, because it wasn't as if his parents ever verbally expressed their distaste.

Spencer gave a short nod of thanks, then moved forward without another word. It didn't surprise her that the two weren't within talking distance. They were never within talking distance, even when they were.

She entered the ruin of a house a little wearily, her eyes instinctively looking around for Toby amidst a landscape of black residue. Her eyes didn't immediately find him and she stumbled ahead, preparing to call his name just as she spotted him around the corner.

He was sitting on his knees, long fingers digging through the blackness for untainted memories that he could place into the cardboard box resting beside him. Spencer couldn't help but notice that his heart didn't seem into it, and when she came closer her own heart rattled against her ribcage when she saw his eyes were wet.

"Toby…"

She slowly knelt down beside him, like he was a beaten dog that she didn't want to scare off. His head tilted slightly in her direction but other than that he didn't acknowledge her presence, and she gently placed one hand on his back as the other reached around his neck. Her own problems with her family were momentarily forgotten as she watched him amongst the burned remains of his childhood. There wasn't a single thing she could think of to say so she simply used one hand to wipe beneath his eyes, feeling a lump rise in her own throat.

He sniffled and made a clear effort to straighten up. "Sorry," he murmured quietly. "I just… my mom's piano…"

She followed his gaze to the black monstrosity that, when she looked more closely, was quite obviously the cadaver of the beautiful grand piano that had once lit up the entire house. The instrument had not been played since its owner was hauled off to a mental facility, but it was always deeply treasured by the son she had left behind.

Spencer felt dread well up in gut, along with deep sympathy for her boyfriend who never hurt anyone and fierce hatred towards the unknown people who would do this to him.

"When I moved out," Toby began hesitantly, his voice small and unfamiliar, "my dad wouldn't let me take the sheets from my own bed. But he did say I could have the piano." He gulped and hid his eyes from her. "I didn't have room for it in the loft but he agreed that I could come back for it once I had a bigger place. It was the first decent conversation we'd had in years and I think the only one since."

Fresh tears quietly escaped his eyes as he rasped regretfully, "I'll never have it now."

Aside from his words, which were so devastatingly heartbreaking that she couldn't dwell on them or she would completely lose it, Spencer felt added anguish over this boy's complete inability to cry out. He was so introverted even his grief. He never vented or sobbed – he hid away and fell apart in silence, as if he was afraid his vulnerability would be exploited by people whose hearts weren't as pure as his.

"Come here," she said brokenly as her hands clasped at his shirt and she gave a careful tug. He allowed her to pull him towards her, but as his body molded into hers she felt him tremble in his struggle to hold on to that last piece of self-possession.

"It's okay," she whispered, weaving one set of fingers through his long, thick locks as her lips connected with his temple. "Let go, baby. Just let go."

And he did. She nearly buckled under the pressure as his full weight collapsed against her. It was as if her whole body went into protective mode, and it was by some miracle that she managed to hold both herself and him upright. Tears flowed freely from her own eyes as she heard him sob in a way that she never had before.

It wasn't long before he went quiet, almost as if giving in to his pain like that had completely worn him out. But he didn't move away from her, and she did nothing to encourage him to. Her hand followed the long, solid contours of his muscled back, stroking up and down in slow, soothing movement. Her fingers smoothed out his hair, and she was just thinking she wouldn't mind staying with him like this forever when he slowly moved to sit up.

The tormented look in his eyes seemed to have lessened somewhat, making room for exhaustion. Still, he took her hands in his and asked, "How are you? Are you okay?"

The question came as such a surprise that she was nodding before she'd even realized it. "I'm fine."

"No, you're not." His sky blue eyes looked her over, inspecting her. Scrutinizing her. "You're upset. What's wrong?"

She shook her head, unwilling to add to his stress by piling her problems on top of his own. "I'm upset about your house. That's all."

"It's more than that," he insisted, squeezing her hands, and for one insane moment Spencer didn't know whether to be touched or annoyed. How was it possible that he always saw right through her? It was almost infuriating how she could never hide anything from him. She was naked for him, all the time.

"Can we get out of here?" she requested suddenly, sounding more desperate than she would have liked. He nodded and pulled her to her feet without a word. Spencer hardly dared to look inside the cardboard box he carried with the hand that wasn't holding hers, out of fear she would feel heartbroken all over again at what little he'd manage to recuperate. They found their way outside, and she was momentarily confused when Toby stopped moving and looked around the house, clearly in search of something.

She realized she'd once again completely forgotten about his stepmother, who was currently nowhere to by seen. The car she and Toby had arrived in also seemed to have disappeared from sight.

"I guess she assumed I'd be leaving with you," he concluded with a tired shrug.

As they headed for her silver SUV, Spencer bit back her disbelief at this family's complete and utter lack of communication. The fact that it could even shock her spoke volumes. She knew her own relatives were hardly inspiring examples of what a healthy family dynamic looked like, but at least they attempted to communicate via email. His family didn't communicate at all.

"Where are we going?" Toby asked her when they were both buckled in and she drive out into the street. "Your house?"

Spencer shook her head, unable to stomach the idea of setting foot in that place now that her parents were no longer together and nothing would ever be the same again. "I want to get away for a while. Is it okay if we go up to our spot on the hill?"

He gave her one of those looks that made her feel like his eyes were drilling a hole in her skull, but eventually just nodded and leaned back against the seat without a word. It couldn't be more obvious that he knew something was up, and she loved him for not pushing. She asked about his dad, and Toby responded somewhat wearily that he was going to be fine but the pain and immobility was making him even more irritable than usual. The car ride was mostly silent after that, and Spencer found herself thinking back to that one moment of bliss they'd spent his truck when he'd told her exactly what she needed to hear. It had been the calm before the storm, only they hadn't known it at the time.

It was already starting to get dark by the time they arrived at their usual meeting spot in the woods. Spencer shivered a little as her body got reacquainted with the late afternoon air, which Toby noticed and dutifully prepared to hand over the jacket on his own back. She shook her head at him, opening the trunk and retrieving an old, comfy hoodie of his that she kept in her car for situations exactly like this one.

On the chillier moments like now they would typically crawl into the bed of his truck as opposed to the ground or a tree stump or some rock, but since they had taken Spencer's car they simply settled onto the front of it, discarding their shoes to avoid scratching the surface and leaning back against the glass. He trapped he bare legs between his and surrounded her with strong arms, and for the first time since his house blew up two days ago she felt something that resembled peace.

Conversation still seemed unnecessary at this point. They were both lost in thought. Spencer could practically feel his absentmindedness as he fiddled with the ends of her hair. Once he asked is she was warm enough, and even though she nodded he still pulled her closer. But other than that not a single word was spoken between them.

Until her phone went off. She reached for it, turned it off without even checking the caller ID and returned to his embrace. He was quiet but didn't fight her on it.

They'd been there before. It hadn't worked last time either.

Finally, after minutes more of silence, he uttered quietly, "Are you ever going to tell me what's wrong?"

She squeezed her eyes shut, then inhaled deeply and sat up. He followed suit, his bright eyes never leaving her face like he was afraid he would miss it if he so much as blinked.

"I met my mom for coffee," she started wearily, avoiding his gaze because she knew it would make her want to cry. "She said she had a conversation with my dad, and… we're moving back home."

Confusion was apparent on his face when he asked, "That's a good thing, isn't it?"

She shook her head. "My dad's moving out. She said it they decided together but I think it's her. I think she just doesn't want to be with him anymore."

"Spence…" He swept her hair off her neck and squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. "I'm so sorry."

"I never thought this would happen," she rambled on. It had taken her a while to start talking but now it was as if she couldn't stop. "I knew things weren't perfect but I always thought I was the only one who saw anything wrong with it. I never knew they weren't happy…"

"They might still work it out," he offered supportively. Her Toby, always the optimist.

"I feel like…"

She fell silent, and he looked at her apprehensively. "What?"

She wiped her hand across her eyes and swallowed. "I feel like this is all my fault. If I hadn't started up with those pills, they never would have–"

"Spencer–"

"No." She resisted his attempts to pull her closer. "No, think about it. My mom thought my dad did it to protect me. If I hadn't–"

"Spencer, your parents have problems that have nothing to do with you," he interrupted, sounding frustrated in a pained kind of way. "This isn't something that happened over the past few weeks. They've been on the rocks since before you were born… they were just really, really good at hiding it."

She let out a long, shuddery breath and he wrapped an arm around her, drawing her against him and fitting her head comfortably under his chin.

"It's their fight," he shushed her. "They need to figure it out for themselves. I know that's hard for you. You always want to better the lives of the people around you."

"Sometimes it feels like all I do is poison them," she blurted without thinking.

"No, baby." She heard the hurt in his voice but somehow his tone was still steady. "Just the opposite. I know your parents agree. They may suck at showing it but I know you light up their lives just like you light up mine."

She wanted to believe him. She really did. She wanted to believe that the love he felt from her and the happiness she brought him overpowered the calamity he had to overcome purely as a result of being someone she was close to. She didn't question that he saw it that way, but when she recalled his face upon seeing his mother's grand piano turned to ashes it was really hard to agree.

And yet, she couldn't let him go. Lately she could barely even make it through the day when she knew she wouldn't be seeing him. She would feel shakier and closer to tears at any given time. She would miss him and long for him until she gave herself a stomach ache.

If she could only barely get through one day, how could she possibly get through the rest of her life?

She pushed herself closer to him, closing her fingers around the material covering his chest and pressing her face into his neck. His hold on her tightened in response, and she felt one of his hands move to the back of her head as he kissed her hair.

"Do you need me to tell you again?" he questioned in a faint whisper, and she felt momentarily confused.

"Tell me what again?" Her voice sounded muffled because she couldn't be bothered to remove her face from his skin.

A strong but oh so gentle hand ran up and down her back just once. "That you're never alone even for a second."

This time she did lift her face to look at him, to seek out those striking blue eyes that grounded her but also took her breath away. "No," he assured him as her lips curled into a small smile. "I got it the first time."

He smiled back, and she didn't know if he bent down or she tilted her chin up but the next thing she knew was that his lips were on hers. Suddenly she couldn't get close enough. Her fingers grasped at his shoulders desperately, only to reach up to brush his hair back from his face as he deepened the kiss.

Just like two days before, when they did this there were a few instances where he made her forget the confusing and impenetrable girl whom she couldn't completely trust no matter what she tried, the recent dismemberment of her family, the disaster that took place in New York, her nightmares, her recovering pill addiction _and_ the fact that she had yet to be accepted into any colleges that had a fighting chance of impressing her parents. All she knew was that she had the very best human being this world had to offer, and he was right by her side, all the time.

When her phone rang again and the moment shattered, she told herself she would just have to keep remembering that when things got tough. Spencer had a sneaking suspicion that this wouldn't be long at all.


End file.
